


Long Drawn Out Trip

by screaming



Category: 1960s Music Scene RPF, The Doors
Genre: 1960s, F/M, Road Trips, Rock Stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 21:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1484251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screaming/pseuds/screaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Messy lil one shot idk. You n Jim drive through the desert n stuff happens ;o</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Drawn Out Trip

 With the burning sunset glow at your backs, the car races into the oncoming dusk, pinks and purples smudged into the desert horizon. The radio is a faint hum as static flutters over the crooning of the lovesick star. You’re staring out at the landscape, the moon full and bright in the dusty pink heavens, cacti flick past lit with acid orange and the distant mesas stand steadfast watching over the silent plains. The vision fills your chest with a quiet pain of a memory too deep to bring to the surface of your mind, elusive, ancient. You try not to think about the impossibility of consciousness.

 “Girl, are you even looking at that map?”

 Jim drums his fingers on the steering wheel, bringing you back to the moment. “Of course I am. There’s a turn off in maybe, twenty minutes? Don’t worry, man, this duck’s got that weird electro magnetic homing doohickey, you know, the whole migration navigating thing? Yeah. You know.”

 A deep chuckle rises in his throat. “You talk a lotta shit you know.”

 You look over at him, content to just watch him drive. He was no classical beauty, no marble statue, but something behind his eyes never failed to catch you, some far away brilliance in the dark, dragging you in to anything he did or said. Long, muscular arms, sun kissed skin, that god damned smirk. Like the desert in the dusk Jim always made you feel that deep sadness of transient beauty and it is all you can do to stop the tears from welling in your eyes.

 “Hey. Are you alright?”

 “Why d’you ask?”

 He puts a warm palm on your bare thigh, heat melting his skin into yours. “You’re doing that thing, staring at me like you’ve seen a ghost.” He looks at you, smiling. You feel like you’re going to puke.

 “I just, love you I guess. Hah. Sounds real dumb, hey,” you mumble through a sheepish grin. He squeezes your thigh and you can’t help but laugh nervously as goosebumps race up your back.

 “How much further til this turn off?”

 You squint at the map, straining to catch the details in the failing light. “Uhhhhhh,” you groan.

 “What.”

 “Uhhhhhh.”

 “What?”

 “Wait no there it is. Oh. Oho.” 

“Oh my god, what is it?” He slows the car, pulling with a groan off onto the gravelly plain. You flick the cabin light on and inspect the map closely.  

“Huh. You know how I said I was the duck with the doohicker?” 

“Yes. Electro magnetic homing.”

“Yeah. I’m not. We’re about two hours off.”

“Jesus.” He reaches for the map, and instead of taking it off you, just pulls it and you closer. You are hyper aware of the warmth of his shoulder against yours, the scent of cigarettes and something earthy and warm coils around you and you feel light headed, drunk in love.

You tap the page. “There’s a motel just down the highway,” you croak. He hums in assent, looking down at you slouched in your seat. “I probably don’t have enough cash for a room though.”

“Bad navigator and broke. I’m beginning to think I should have taken Ray on this road trip. Far more organised.” 

“Not as cute” you blurt out, a little shocked at yourself. 

Jim shoots you a bedroom-eyes stare. “True,” he said with a quirk of his eyebrow. 

You snort trying to contain your laughter, which sends you further into a fit of giggles and Jim rolls his eyes, failing to conceal his grin.

 Half an hour later you pull into the parking lot out the front of the little weather beaten motel, flickering neon announcing vacancies. Jim saunters in to pay while you watch from the car.

“Mmm. Spacious.” You and Jim lay shoulder to shoulder in the single bed, crammed into the corner, maybe a foot to the wall on the other side and two feet to the door from the foot of the bed.

Jim laughs, a deep rumble vibrating through the mattress and your own body. You can feel your cheeks blossom red in the dark and you pray to be still and silent in sleep. There is a single window at the head of the bed, with a worn and holey netting veil. The moonlight filters through, casting a glow upon Jim’s face as he turns over to wrap an arm around you and you freeze, unconsciously holding your breath.

“Seriously. Are you okay?”

You turn, looking at him in his pale, celestial glow. Without thinking you dart forward, pressing your lips to his. Pulling away just as fast, you gasp. “Sorry,” you hiss.

 Slowly, he lifts his palm to your neck, thumbing your cheek, and leans in again, lips soft against yours, languidly deepening the kiss, his tongue gently exploring yours. You sink into the warmness of his arms, relaxing cautiously. Breaking away, he looks into your eyes with that goddamned beautiful smirk on his face. “So you did mean it, when you said you love me?” His voice is thick and rough, and as you pull his body closer to yours you nod. He slips his hand to your bare shoulder, tracing delicate circles in your skin, goose bumps prickling as you moan softly, kissing along his jaw line. He chuckles again.

“Say it.”

“I love you.”


End file.
